


Revenge in the time of betrayal

by Loveofangst



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Bad Friend Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Bad Parent Sheriff Stilinski, Laura Hale Lives, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, Revenge
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:28:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 17
Words: 19,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25220020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loveofangst/pseuds/Loveofangst
Summary: Peter escapes the hospital but instead of finding Laura, he finds Stiles.
Relationships: Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 155
Kudos: 641





	1. Escape

Awareness comes back by inches. At first he hears the muted chatter and beeping that allow him to deduce that he is in a hospital rather than a burning basement. Then he starts to hear the words of the doctors and nurses who drift in and out of his room, mostly hospital gossip although there are occasional comments on his medical condition. He hears that he has been in this hospital room for 6 years, is generally considered unlikely to recover and never has visitors. His wolf howls soundlessly at hearing that he has no visitors. As he had come in and out of consciousness, he had been turning that terrible night over and over in this mind. The screams of Derek and Laura weren’t among those he heard over and over in his mind and he thought maybe they had survived. But if they aren’t here with him, the hunters who burned the rest of his family must have tracked them down as well. He’s the only one left.

That thought makes Peter want to give up and let the darkness take him, but as he lays there in his hospital bed with nothing to do but remember, his thoughts turn to the hunters, all the people who helped them and how they need to pay for what they have done. Those people have been living free for 6 long years, he won’t allow them to make it to 7. 

He can't exact the requisite degree of revenge unless he get out of his hospital bed. So, fueled with this dark motivation Peter spends days focusing on the tips of his fingers and eventually he has success, moving one then two fingers, a toe, his head and then the rest of his body. He makes sure to keep his movements subtle though so that none of the nurses or doctors are alerted to his recovery. The hunters may have left him here to rot, but if word gets out that he might get out of his hospital bed, they will surely return to finish the job they started.

As he recovers his movement his mind turns to how he can get out of the hospital. The longer he stays here the more likely that the medical staff notice his recovery and he isn’t sure he could prevail in a fight against hunters in his current condition. He starts tracking the movement of the medical staff, particularly the night nurses. One of the night nurses spends most of her shifts watching banal late night TV shows and next time she is in charge of his ward, he seizes his opportunity.

He rises slowly from his bed, every muscle aching, slowly disengaging the various leads so as not to give rise to an alarm and finally, stands. He almost falls over again, but by strength of will manages to maintain his footing and slowly inches towards the door of his room. He can’t see anyone in the hallway and gritting his teeth, he makes his way as quickly as he can along the corridor, keeping every sense on alert in case some errant hospital worker foils his escape.   
Eventually he makes it to a door, pushes through it and looks up into the sky to see a full moon. Its as if the moonlight releases something inside him, he feels energy suffuse his limbs and suddenly, the change is upon him and he starts to run.


	2. Unforgivable

Stiles was walking slowly home. He had spent most of the night at the hospital with Scotty, who had had another asthma attack. He couldn’t help but think how unfair it was that the one thing that Scott really loved, lacrosse, could make him so sick. 

As he turned down his street he froze when he thought he heard something crashing through the undergrowth behind the houses, but when he stopped there was no noise. Quickening his pace, he thought he would need to go easier on the horror movies, they were making him way too jumpy.

Just as his house came into sight he felt an arm move around and pull him back into a hard male body. He immediately started to struggle and as he drew in breath to call for help a hand clamped over his mouth and he was dragged backwards into the house next door. He looked frantically around but there was no-one there and he remembered that the family had moved out while the house was on the market. 

As the front door of the house slammed shut leaving him in darkness with his captor, he tried some of the self-defence moves they had learned at school, but the man’s arms were like vices and Stiles’ struggles didn’t even slow him down as he dragged the boy through the house. Stiles’ breathing grew even more frantic as he found himself thrown onto a large bed and it became clear that this was really about to happen.

Then there was a warm weight on top of him and he could feel a mouth at his neck biting and sucking into the skin, while hands roamed over his body. His t-shirt was pushed up and the mouth moved down to rove over his chest sucking marks all over his chest before biting on his nipples roughly as hands moved down to his jeans and unbuttoned them before plunging roughly into his boxers. He thought about how this would be his first experience with sex and felt shame wash over him as he became half hard even with the rough treatment. 

Finally, the man moved away from his nipples and pulled his hands out of Stiles boxers, but before Stiles could hope that his might be over, the hands simply rolled him onto his front and moved to rip off his jeans, boxers and t-shirt. As he felt a knee push his legs apart he started whimpering and begging for his captor to stop but all that achieved was the man forcing his fingers into Stiles mouth before plunging one into his hole. Stiles cried out but to no avail as the man lay across his back and pressed two and then three fingers into him before replacing them with his cock. When Stiles felt the blunt pressure pushing into him the pain was excruciating and he screamed over and over, but the man was relentless and just kept pushing until Stiles could feel pubic hair pushing up against his buttocks. Then his captor pulled almost all the way out and slammed back into him, and then did it again and again. Stiles could feel everything as the huge cock pounded into him for what felt like forever. Through it all there was some sickening sense of pleasure through the pain but not enough to make him hard again. Finally, Stiles felt the man’s thrusts stutter before there a sharp pain on the back of his neck as the man bit down and roared his pleasure before spurting load after load of come into his ass.

After the man finished, Stiles lay there hoping that the man was done with him and would finally leave. However, the man stayed lodged inside him and started kissing and biting the back of his neck over and over before his hips started to move slowly and then quicker as he hardened in Stiles’ ass. Stile’s could feel his hole burning as the man started fucking him in earnest again, only eased a little by the copious amounts of come that he could hear squelching as the man moved in and out of him. The man set a more leisurely pace this time and it felt like much longer before he came again.

The man fucked him several more times throughout the night. As the ordeal went on Stiles passed out for minutes at a time and then passed out completely just before dawn. He came to in a puddle of come when the mid-morning sun hit the bed. He surreptitiously looked around the room, fearful that his attacker was still there, but he was finally alone. In looking down he saw with some relief that there were only a few flecks of blood on the bedspread. 

As Stiles lay there, he could feel the wetness between his legs, and it occurred to him that the bastard hadn’t even worn a condom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Non-con in any form is not OK. This is just a story and should be read as such.
> 
> Sorry Stiles...


	3. Practicalities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter finds a place to regroup

Peter's first night out of the hospital was a bit of a blur. As soon as he stepped outside of the hospital and felt the full moon on him for the first time in six years, his wolf took the reins and he let himself follow his instincts for the night. However, with the sunrise came clarity, and he knew that he couldn’t continue on blindly. 

He needed to find a place to hide and a plausible way of rising from the ‘almost dead’. Not about to hide in some abandoned warehouse with no plumbing, Peter resolved that his first step would have to be accessing cash. There was no way he could access any of his existing bank accounts safely. Even if the accounts were still operative, they would give rise to an electronic trail which would lead the authorities, and the hunters, straight to him. Peter wasn’t sure he could take a risk on the Hale vault - if the hunters had found out about the tunnels underneath the house, who knows what else they found out about the pack. So, after dressing in clothes stolen from the house he found himself in the night before, he headed quickly towards the reserve. As Talia’s left hand it had been his responsibility to plan for an escape from the tunnels, and as part of that, Peter had buried bundles of cash in multiple places close to the exit from the tunnels.

Finding the cash had been easy, but using it to rent somewhere to live and buy food without showing his face to anyone who might recognise him was a lot harder. Ultimately, he decided that the lowest risk option was to steal a car and drive a few towns over to buy what he needed to live anonymously for a time in Beacon Hills. With that in mind, he used his cash to buy a secondhand laptop, some burner phones, and enough chain grocery and homewares store gift cards to facilitate delivered groceries and cooking equipment without a credit card for the foreseeable future. With the help of an unsecured wifi connection he used the laptop to find private home sublets on Craigslist and the burner phone to work through them until he found someone willing to sell him some basic furnishings and to take payment in cash. After disposing of the stolen car, he then headed to a second hand car lot, on the rationale that driving his own car was far less risky than using stolen ones. While a handful of people had seen his face, he was hopeful that those looking for him wouldn’t think to check 100 miles away and if they did eventually make the connection he comforted himself by thinking that they would be looking in the wrong place. 

Paying for the house was tricky. He didn’t want to expose his face to someone living in Beacon Hills but he needed to get the cash to his new landlord, Matt, without using a bank account or making him suspicious. He arranged to hand over the cash for the sublet at the house and waited outside until he saw the man leave with a huff of frustration after waiting for over half an hour. A soon as the man rounded the corner he dropped the envelope of cash in the letter box and waited 10 minutes before using his burner phone to call. “Hi Matt” he puffed “I’m so sorry. I just got to the house and you must have left, understandably. I’m just going to drop the money off in the letterbox if that’s OK? I’m already late to pick up my girlfriend from the bus station”. Happily after an aggrieved sigh he heard Matt say “Fine, I’m about 10 minutes away, I’ll drop the keys in the box when I grab the money”. 

After watching the house to check that Matt did as promised, Peter parked the car where its number plate wouldn’t be visible and let himself into the house. 

As he sat down at the tiny kitchen table he couldn’t help but feel that he felt remarkably centered for an omega. Part of his anxiousness to get out of the hospital had been driven by his worry that his lack of a pack would result in him being increasingly unstable, and he wanted to make sure that his revenge was complete before he lost focus. However, if anything he felt steadier than before. It couldn’t be the alpha power, he could feel that he was still a beta and his blue eyes confirmed that feeling. 

Sighing, Peter set the thought aside as yet another mystery to solve and powered up the laptop to look up information on the fire. An hour into his research he came to the stunning realisation that Laura and Derek were alive and well in New York, seemingly unconcerned that their uncle and former packmate had been lying vulnerable in a hospital bed for 6 years.


	4. Routine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles takes his life back.

It had been a week since that night. A week since he had been to school or spoken to Scott. 

By virtue of a credible stomach bug story and his father’s preoccupation with his job, he had bought himself a week in which no-one had laid eyes on him. However, he knew that he couldn’t keep this up indefinitely and he’d resolved that today was the day he was going to resume his life again, or at least try.

The physical bruises had finally faded, all except for the bite mark on the back of his neck. Examining himself in the mirror he had marvelled at how he looked the same as he always did, with the exception of the dark circles under his eyes, the result of ongoing nightmares that had yet to abate.

With one hand of the front door handle, Stiles took a fortifying breath and stepped into his front yard. Heart pounding, he couldn’t help but scan the street for potential threats. Chiding himself for being ridiculous, he stepped towards the driveway before cursing when he realised that his jeep was back at school, where he left it when Scott had his asthma attack. Fuck, fuck, fuck…….. 

OK, maybe this was a good thing. He couldn’t live his life on tenterhooks and perhaps the walk to school would be like a kind of twisted aversion therapy so he could get himself under control before he had to brave the halls of Beacon Hills High.

Stiles had a strict policy of projecting ‘don’t’ fuck with me’ vibes following Jackson’s short-lived attempt to bully him in seventh grade. In combination with his reputation for swift and creative retribution it had been a solid strategy for surviving his high school experience and now was no time to let them see a chink in his armor.

…

‘Dude, how are you? It’s been like a week. I can’t remember the last time you had that much time off school’ said Scott clapping on the back. Without waiting for a response he went on, ‘I met a girl. Her name is Alison. She’s new, just started this week. She’s so beautiful’. 

Stiles rolled his eyes, Scott was like a giant puppy. Who knew if this girl even knew his name. But right on cue, as if this Alison could hear his thoughts, he heard tentative voice say ‘Hi Scott’ and turned to see a tall girl with chestnut hair walking up to them. Scott’s face split into a huge grin. ‘Hi Alison… are you going to English … can I walk you?’. Alison smiled back. She looked like a Disney princess, he could almost see the little birdies circling her brown curls. ‘Sure… but…’ she said looking quizzically at Stiles. ‘Oh, right, you haven’t met Stiles yet, Stiles this is Alison’. Stiles and Alison exchanged greetings as Scott stood there grinning. ‘Well we better get going to class…’ said Scott looking squarely at Alison. Stiles took the hint and left them too it, not wanting to get in the way of young love. 

The rest of his day followed the same pattern. No-one seemed to notice anything different about him. Scott was completely focused on Alison, his teachers hardly looked at him and when his father passed by him on his way to yet another night shift he barely spared him a glance. There was a time when Stiles would have been hurt in the face of this indifference by the people who were supposed to look out for him, but today he was just grateful. 

After that first day it got easier and in the following weeks, Stiles got back into some semblance of a routine. 

He managed to stay on top of his schoolwork despite the nightmares which kept him in a constant state of sleep deprivation. He went back to preparing healthy meals for his dad, although he was finding it harder and harder to eat properly himself. He also started some self-defence classes at the local community centre.

Gradually he stopped looking for threats around every corner. Finally he was taking his life back, bit by bit. 

Then the murders started.


	5. Retribution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter finds creative inspiration.

Peter couldn’t believe that Laura and Derek were alive. He had just assumed that they must have perished. There was no other way to explain the lack of pack bonds, and the fact that had been abandoned in a hospital room for six years!

Part of him wanted it to be true. While not being the most attentive uncle, he had loved all of Talia’s children and had taken great delight in leading the eldest two astray from time to time.

The other part, the basest part, wanted to hunt them down and tear them to pieces for betraying their packmate in such an egregious way.

He wasn’t used to feeling this torn. Normally he was one to take decisive action, never second-guessing decisions once they had been made. 

The logical side of him was also concerned that while he couldn’t feel the pack bonds, that they were there somewhere and might be the only thing standing between him and insanity. With that thought in mind he resolved to quietly track down his errant niece and nephew, but defer action until he had achieved his primary goal – destroying anyone who had anything to do with the fire.

…

Thus resolved, he decided that his immediate priority should be to get himself into physical shape. While he had tried to plan for every contingency in establishing his bolthole, he knew he couldn’t be complacent. If the hunters came, he needed to be ready to take them down.

Peter had loved cooking before the fire. He’d even gone so far as to spend his gap year between college and law school cheffing around Europe. Now, he used those skills to make meals that would speed his recovery. He was certain that one of the reasons his recovery had been so slow is that the hospital staff had been effectively, if inadvertently, starving him. Werewolves, particularly those recovering from serious injuries, needed an enormous amount of protein heavy calories, and six years of almost starvation had taken a big toll. 

Peter also focused on getting control over all aspects of his werewolf abilities. He started with his ability to heal. While Peter was relieved that his healing had now accelerated, he knew he had to direct that healing carefully. Firstly, to make sure that those parts of himself that would give him the best chance against the hunters were healed as a matter of priority, but also to make sure that he could switch off the power when needed. The ability to suppress healing was essential to maintaining the pretense that he was only human. 

He then needed to relearn the lessons of control that he had once mastered in this youth. When he first left the hospital he could physically shift, but it just happened, Peter couldn’t exert any control over the timing or extent of his shifts. That posed unacceptable risks, and now Peter spent hours every day practising going in and out of each aspect of the change until he was confident that he could shift any part of himself at will. 

When he wasn’t cooking or training, he used the skills gleaned from being Talia’s Left Hand to assemble as much information as he could find about the fire and the ensuing cover up. His search was restricted to what he could find online at this stage, but even with that limitation, he was able to link enough individuals to the commission or cover up of the crime to compile a very promising list for retribution. 

……

After three full months of recuperation, Peter finally felt strong enough to reach out to the first person on his list.

The Beacon Hills fire chief had mysteriously stepped down one month after ruling the Hale fire an accident. According to the wonders of social media, he was spending his retirement at a lake house just outside Beacon Hills. A luxurious property that he should not have been able to afford.

Peter spent the better part of a week watching the property. He intended to spend his time with Gordon and didn’t want any unexpected interruptions.

His night with Gordon was gratifying to say the least. The initial bluster had given way to a delightful blubbering and the man had given up everything he could think of to stop Peter’s slow dismantling of his body. He gave details on who had asked him to falsify the fire report, how he had been paid and where a copy of his initial findings could be found. It was marvellous. 

Peter left the fire chief roasting on the BBQ overlooking the tranquil lake. He thought it only fitting that the man enjoy his ill-gotten gains in his final moments.  
…

The fire chief was followed by the insurance investigator. Peter left him outside his mother’s house, the house mysteriously purchased just after signing off the Hale fire as an accident - flayed.

The medical examiner rounded out those proven to have covered up the murder of his family. He was the least repentant of the three, still practising as the Beacon Hills medical examiner, and Peter took advantage of the long weekend to make sure that he repented, repeatedly. The final display was something that Peter was particularly proud of. Medical instruments were a wonderful source of materials and creative inspiration.


	6. Realisation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles realises that he can't rely on anyone else.

‘Perhaps I could bring myself to give a fuck about this class if your lazy ass could be bothered to actually teach us something that we couldn’t download on youtube’ said Stiles as the room stilled around him.

Had he actually said that out loud? Fuck his life. The last thing he needed was more time cleaning out beakers and judging by the expression on Harris’ face he was going to be stuck in detention until the end of time. As the irate teacher drew breathe to mete out his punishment, Stiles decided that putting up with Harris’ petty tortures was a bridge to far. Fuck that. Ignoring the stares of his gobsmacked classmates, and with the sound of his chair scraping loudly in the silent room, he grabbed his bag and left, leaving an apoplectic chemistry teacher in his wake.

The last few months had been tough. He had really tried, but he just couldn’t quite seem to pull the pieces of his life together and every attempt to reach out for help just made him feel more alone. 

Scott spent every moment with, thinking about or talking about Allison. At first Stiles had been grateful for the distraction, but now he just wanted his friend back. They never really talked anymore. Even at lunch, Scott was surrounded his new friends, Allison’s friends, and Stiles was just the pathetic hanger on that no one, including Scott, could be bothered with. Repeated attempts to organise some bro time fell on deaf ears and after a while Stiles gave up trying. 

Home was no better. Stiles was finding it increasingly hard to be in the house by himself. The self defence classes had been a means of making him feel more in control, and they had definitely been helping, but the addition of a serial killer on the loose in Beacon Hills pretty much obliterated any remaining sense of security Stiles had. Sleep became increasingly hard to come by and even when he drifted off out of exhaustion, he started awake at every creak in the house.

Since spending time with Scott was out, he had been trying to find reasons to spend time at the station with his dad during the day and convince the Sheriff to delegate his night shifts to someone else. While he hadn’t always been the most attentive of fathers, as illustrated by his general obliviousness in the face of Stiles’ recent trials, he had really thought that when it came down to it, his father would be there for him. He was wrong. Instead, the pressure to solve the recent murders, seemed to push his father in the other direction, from being a slightly absent father to a just functioning alcoholic who was never home. Attempts to talk to his father were rebuffed with increasing levels of impatience and frustration. 

Up until his chemistry implosion, he had been managing to keep his grades up. However, as the days went on, the sleep deprivation played havoc with his impulse control and now worrying about next year’s college prospects seemed like a problem for another Stiles.

Deciding that there was nothing more to be salvaged at school today, Stiles made his way home. He was expecting to find the house empty as always, but at the sight of the Sherriff’s car out front, he felt his face break into a smiled. His relief was short lived however when he opened the front door and saw the expression on this father’s face.

‘Is there some reason that I’m getting calls at work about my son insulting a teacher and leaving school in the middle of the day?’ said the Sherriff ominously.

‘Um… dad… sorry….. I shouldn’t have lost it, but Harris is such an asshole, he can’t be bothered to teach us, he’s a bully, he’s had it in for me for years…’ Stiles' tirade slowly petered off as his father’s expression darkened.

‘Is this some sort of belated cry for attention? You’re 18 years old but its like you’ve reverted to being a child, having tantrums, being clingy. All hell’s breaking loose at the station, but instead I’m having to waste my time dealing with you’.

At his father’s words Stiles felt his trepidation morph into a searing rage. ‘Wasting your time, that’s just lovely’ said Stiles. ‘Well if I ever wanted proof that the people of Beacon Hills mean more to you than your own son, then I just heard it. I wonder what your constituents would have to say if they knew that your son had to learn to cook so that he wouldn’t starve, that he does all the laundry in the house, that you probably can’t remember the last time you went grocery shopping or cleaned the house or did anything other than work and get drunk!’ yelled Stiles at increasing levels of volume.

‘Well if its that tough you know where the door is’ said the Sheriff.

‘What…. Dad…..what are you saying?’ Stiles almost whispered.

‘I’m saying be a man. Toughen up, sort out the situation at school so I don’t get any more calls and stop complaining. You don’t know how good you have it.’ As he got and walked out the front door the Sheriff fixed Stiles with a hard gaze, saying, ‘time to grow up, when I get back have a better attitude or don’t be here at all.’

As the door closed behind the Sheriff, Stiles felt like it was a door closing on this chapter of his life. His current life was broken, time to start again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, the encouraging comments are what keep me going. 
> 
> Sorry for not posting yesterday. I am trying to post a chapter every day, but real life got in the way. Hoping to post the next chapter later today to make up for it.
> 
> Coming up, Stiles and Peter run into each other in the daylight.


	7. New Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter and Stiles move onto the next phases of their respective plans.

Peter was sick of living in the shadows. It was time to be Peter Hale again.

Peter Hale had money, and status, and contacts. Peter Hale was a target who could get the hunters to come and fight him on his home territory. Peter Hale had family, in theory at least.

Peter had been plotting his return since he lay helpless in his hospital bed. The key to successful reintegration into his old life, or at least what was left of it, was being able to explain two things. Firstly, his disappearance from the hospital and secondly, his reappearance free of any visible scarring. 

In all honesty, the second explanation wasn’t wholly necessary. He hadn’t yet healed his scars, the showman inside of him wanting to find the right moment for the big reveal, and he could simply choose not to. It would make the explanations easier and it wouldn’t compromise his ability to defend himself against the hunters. However, in truth, the idea of reclaiming his life looking as broken on the outside as he was on the inside, was anathema to Peter’s vanity. Hence, despite the ensuing complications he had every intention of healing his scars before revealing himself to the world at large again. 

The only plausible ways to explain the abrupt departure of a coma patient from the hospital were abduction or rescue. Abduction would be hard to sell in conjunction with expensive reconstructive facial surgery and follow up medical care. That left rescue. 

…

With the assistance of a somewhat unscrupulous investigator, Peter had been keeping track of Laura and Derek, waiting for the right time to make contact. 

He still hadn’t made up his mind on his plans for his neglectful niece and nephew, but at the current juncture they could be useful. Who knows, perhaps the relationship could be repaired and they could rebuild the Hale pack together. On the other hand, if that didn't pan out, having them in Beacon Hills would give him plenty of flexibility for a more creative endgame. Either way, it was time to reconnect.

Laura’s reaction was everything he had hoped for on his long drive to New York. As she opened the door of her apartment to find his scarred visage, all she could manage with her eyes flashing red was a gasped “Peter”.

…

“Laura” said Peter slowly, sensing her fear, “It’s all right, I’m not here to hurt you. I just wanted to see you and Derek in person, to know that someone else from the family survived that terrible night”.

“Peter, I can’t believe it’s you” said Laura. “You were in a coma. We didn’t think it was possible that you would ever wake up. When did you wake up? I didn’t sense anything.”

Peter looked at her quizzically. Did she not realise? “The pack bond is gone. I haven’t felt it since I woke up in the hospital.” Peter explained.

“I just assumed that I couldn’t feel it because you were in a coma. How can the bond be gone? That’s not possible” said Laura.

“You left me there. Abandoned me. That’s like taking a chainsaw to the bond.” said Peter with as much restraint as he could muster.

“Oh god” said Laura. “You have to believe me. I didn’t realise. Derek and I were just so scared. All we could think of was hiding from the hunters.”

Peter took a deep breath and focused on regulating his heartbeat. Now was not the time to get into this with Laura. He needed to play on their sympathies so that they would do what he needed them to do. 

“I understand, Laura. You were both so young. You must have been so frightened” he said as he reached out to smooth down her hair. As he touched her, he allowed his scars to heal as if it was this that had been the final catalyst to his recovery.

As Laura looked in wonder at his newly healed countenance, she put her hand over his and said, “It’s so good to see you Uncle Peter”.

…

Convincing them to return with him to Beacon Hills, even on a temporary basis, hadn’t been easy. Laura and Derek had created lives for themselves in New York and had tried to put Beacon Hills far behind them. Derek in particular seemed loathe to return.

However after much conversation, the combination of a healthy dose of guilt and the prospect of finally avenging the death of their family was just enough to get Laura, and thus Derek, on a plane. Peter suspected that more might be required to keep them there for any length of time, but one problem at a time.

While in New York, Peter got in contact with his lawyers and they assisted him in getting access to his bank accounts and updated identification documents including a drivers license and a passport. The sense of relief Peter felt now that he could now operate in the open, at least to some extent, was indescribable. With a renewed sense of energy, Peter booked first class tickets from New York to LA and arranged for his newly purchased BMW 6 Series to be delivered there when they arrived. 

Once back in Beacon Hills, Laura managed to successfully deliver the back story created by Peter about a last-minute opportunity at an experimental clinic in Mexico to explain the abruptness of his departure and his subsequent recovery to the hospital authorities. Finally, Peter could move onto the next phase of his campaign.

…

While Peter was confident in announcing to the world that he was alive and well, he didn’t want to be reckless in the disclosure of his new residence or lead anyone back to the small house he had rented for his recuperation. Therefore, with the benefit of the Hale millions, several offshore bank accounts and Delaware’s corporate secrecy laws, he was able to secure, without a searchable paper trail, the purchase of a recently completed low rise luxury apartment building from a developer who had gotten into financial difficulties.

Peter promptly took up residence in the penthouse and magnanimously allowed Derek and Laura to take apartments on the lower floors. The rest he left vacant, for now at least.

With a spring in his step he took off to the nearest Wholefoods to gather ingredients for a celebratory dinner. 

…

Stiles thought about going back to his father’s house every day. But, every time he pictured himself returning, he heard the words his father had spoken and knew that he couldn’t return with his tail between his legs. He needed to prove to himself and his father that he could go it alone.

It hadn’t been easy.

His first challenge had been finding somewhere to live. Options for an 18 year old with little money, no credit history and no job were pretty limited. However, after one sleepless night in his jeep and all his savings, he was able to secure a tiny studio apartment in a very ordinary part of Beacon Hills.

To pay for his new apartment he needed a job. Once again, his options were limited, and the best he could find was a job busing tables at a truck stop diner for cash in hand below minimum wage. Since he needed all the hours he could get, he ended up taking anything he was offered at the diner, which resulted in him working his regular day shift and most nights.

He hadn’t gone back to school. He didn’t want to talk to his classmates, especially Scott, about his new circumstances and he would have been too exhausted to do much more than sleep through his classes in any event. Since he had completed just enough credits that he would be able to graduate if he finished a few assignments, he resolved to work something out with the school so that he wouldn’t have to return in person. He couldn’t bring himself to care about how his absence might affect his college prospects.

He was living hand to mouth, but he was surviving, just, and that was enough for now.

…

Peter had just reacquainted himself with one of his more nefarious contacts and was looking forward to getting out of this part of Beacon Hills. It was far too seedy for Peter’s rather refined tastes.

However, on impulse he decided to pop into a bodega to pick up some final ingredients for a meal he was prepping this evening.

While inspecting the somewhat lackluster produce, he noticed a young man at the register. There was something familiar about him and Peter stopped his inspection of the avocado in his hand to watch him more closely. The more he looked, the more he felt drawn to the young man, and produce in hand he approached the front counter. 

He got there to find the clerk rolling his eyes as the boy searched his pockets, presumably for enough cash to pay for his groceries. Feeling magnanimous, Peter stepped forward and put $20 on the counter. At this, the young man raised wide amber eyes toward him and Peter’s breath stopped as he realised that this was the boy his wolf had sought out over the course of that first night of freedom. 

The memories of that night had gradually come back to him in bursts of remembered sensation. The more he reflected upon it, that night was when he began to feel whole. He knew logically that what he had done was not within the bounds of moral acceptability, but despite that he could not feel any regret. 

As the young man gazed upon him with increasing suspicion, Peter began to worry that he might be recognised. He didn’t see how it was possible though. It had been pitch-black that night and he hadn’t even spoken. Was there something less tangible that would allow the young man to recognise him? If that happened, Peter didn’t know what he would do. He couldn’t allow the boy to report him, but equally he wasn’t sure he could do what needed to be done, not to this young man.

After what seemed eons, the boy simply pushed the $20 back to Peter with a clipped “no thanks, I’m good”, paid for his groceries and left, without a backwards glance.

It was only years of discipline that allowed Peter to remain in place at the boy’s exit. His wolf was howling at him to go after the boy. However, after looking into the boy’s eyes, Peter knew that he would need the right approach if he wanted to have any chance of remaining in the boy’s life in the daylight.

…

Stiles found himself thinking back on his strange run-in in the bodega. There was something familiar about the man who offered him the grocery money, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. 

It was odd. On one hand he felt himself wanting to accept the help as if it was only right that the man come to his rescue. However, at the same time there was something about the man that set off all his internal alarm bells. On balance though, he knew that accepting help like that, especially in this part of town, was just asking for trouble.

Better safe than sorry he thought as he put the matter out of his mind for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally they meet again. It took me a long time to wrangle them into the same place. Thanks for your patience if you made it this far.


	8. Opening Move

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter commences his campaign to win Stiles.

As he entered the diner, Peter couldn’t help but look askance at the sight of red and white plastic tables and the scent of slightly rancid cooking oil. Normally he wouldn’t even think of entering an establishment such of this. However, in this case an exception had to be made. 

After their last interaction, he needed to find a place where the boy could not easily retreat. Placing himself squarely within the boy’s workplace was the obvious solution. Peter’s investigations hadn’t yielded much about his target, but they had highlighted the fact that the boy, Stiles as he was known, had no obvious support structure in his life. Keeping this job was a lifeline to Stiles, one that he wouldn’t want to jeopardise.

…

'Was that the man from the grocery store at table five?' thought Stiles. A quick reconnaissance trip to refill the saltshaker at table nine confirmed, that yes, it was the same man. Stiles’ immediate reaction was to find a way to duck out of his shift early, but one look at his boss quickly dispelled that idea. 

With an internal sigh Stiles made his way over to the table. “What can I get you?” he said with his standard customer service smile, having decided that bland obliviousness was the best strategy here. 

“Have we met before?” said the man with a knowing smile. 

Stiles couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the cliched line, saying firmly “No, don’t think so. What did you want to order?”

“I’ll have the steak and fries, rare ... and its Peter” said the man with a smile. 

“Peter?” said Stiles. 

“My name, I wanted into introduce myself … since we haven’t met before” he responded with a smirk.

“Not necessary, but we’ll get your order out shortly” said Stiles shortly as he hurried back to the kitchen. 

…

Peter could hear the lie when the boy said they hadn’t met before, but though he could sense the suspicion emanating from Stiles, there was no stench of fear. That led him to believe that while Stiles clearly remembered their second meeting, he had no recollection of the first, or at least hadn’t connected Peter to it.

That was a promising start. Peter hadn’t thought the boy had recognised him the other evening, but he had to be sure. If he had been recognised, he would have had to take swifter and more brutal action than he would prefer. 

The object of his musing returned with a large plate. “Here you go sir” said the boy without looking at him, placing the plate and the check on the table with a decisive thud. 

Peter had hoped that the boy might come by his table so that he could try again to engage him in some conversation. However Stiles remained stubbornly out of sight during his valiant attempt to eat the disgraceful excuse for a meal Peter thought of summoning him over with some complaint about the meal, but concluded that simple generosity may be a better way to grease the wheels for his next attempt at his prize.

…

Stile was able to successfully stay away from Peter’s table for the rest of his visit and it wasn’t until he was well out the door that Stiles ventured over to clear the table. Upon doing so he was dumbstruck to find a crisp $100 bill in addition to the $20 to cover the food. 

Part of him was grateful. The tips at the diner weren’t great as a rule and he could certainly use the money. Despite that though, the whole interaction was off. His service hadn’t been great, and the food had barely been touched. It was also the second time the man had offered him money. He felt a chill go down his spine at the thought that the man had come in specifically to see him. 

As he made the long walk from the dinner to his run down apartment, he couldn’t dispel the feeling that he was being watched. He even went so far as to stop suddenly and double back a few times. While he felt a little silly employing moves from old spy movies, he figured that some hyper-vigilance in the face of Beacon Hills' climbing murder rate was sadly prudent.

…

Peter felt his mouth curve into a smile as he watched Stiles enter the seedy apartment building. The boy had good instincts, and his efforts to evade possible pursuers, while unsuccessful, had been extremely entertaining. More now than ever, Peter was glad he had run into his boy again, it was going to be a rewarding hunt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading.


	9. Bait

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter nails multitasking.

Peter had allowed his obsession with Stiles to side-track him for the better part of a week, but now he’d kicked off his campaign on that front, it was time to get back to work on his main project. That didn’t mean he would neglect Stiles, it just meant that some multi-tasking was in order.

He took to starting each day with a visit to the abysmal diner. He sat at the same table, ordered the only edible food on the menu, a danish, and quietly watched his quarry. The boy was still suspicious of him, but with time and familiarity he could sense the boy’s walls lowering. 

He spent the rest of his days working with Laura and Derek to pull together the next phase of his plan. He had been worried that Laura and Derek might balk once they learned more about his first flurry of murders. However, in a pleasing turn of events, they were almost as thirsty for blood as he was. It seemed that it had only been fear stopping them from avenging the murder of their pack. Now, with the added sense of security that his presence and experience gave them, they were embracing his plan. In fact, while he had been distracted tracking Stiles down, Laura and Derek had managed to track down two hunters identified in his latest interrogation.

So far Peter had purposely limited his killings to people involved in the cover up, rather than those involved with the fire itself. His rationale for this was that killing the people involved in the fire itself would be more likely to draw the other hunters involved to Beacon Hills, and while he certainly wanted to get them there, he wanted it to be on his timetable. He also enjoyed the sense of drama in starting slowly with the smaller players and working his way up the chain to a murderous crescendo. He wanted the person behind the slaughter of the Hale pack to cower in fear before he was done.

Now, with the support of two born werewolves, one of them an alpha, the time was right to start drawing the hunters in. 

…

A spectacle was in order. Something that sent a clear message to those who knew enough to decode it.

After their careful planning, kidnapping the hunters had been easy. However, the process of transporting live hunters over state lines was another matter. It took three days to drive them back to Beacon Hills and he spent every minute fighting his impulse to kill them immediately. To add insult to injury, he also missed three days of seeing Stiles, another transgression that he would be sure to take out of the hunters' hides.

Finally they got back to Beacon Hills where Peter’s carefully selected warehouse was waiting. It was abandoned, remote and as close to the preserve as he could manage, which he thought fitting. Prior to leaving he had readied the warehouse with all the tools he would need together with a stylised house frame that Derek had obligingly built as a stage for his intended display. 

Following a quick visit to the diner to check in on Stiles, Peter spent some quality time with the hunters and was able to create a satisfying tableau of partially charred limbs attached artistically to the house frame. As he gazed upon his work, Peter felt confident that while it lacked a certain subtlety, it was guaranteed to get plenty of attention.

Torturing the hunters had been rewarding on so many levels. There was the pleasure of punishing them, their decorative value of course, and last but least, they had been very forthcoming with information once he’d gotten the blowtorch going.

Peter was glad that he had convinced his co-conspirators that he should do the interrogations alone. Despite their wholehearted support for killing the two hunters, Peter wasn’t sure Laura and Derek had the necessary stomach for prolonged torture and there was always the risk that seeing him take such pleasure in the task would undermine the careful persona he had crafted for them. It also meant that he could decide which information he shared. In this case, the hunters had confirmed that the Argent hunting family were behind the fire and had made particular reference to a female Argent, who had worked at the local high school for a time. The school that Laura and Derek had attended. Peter didn’t believe in co-incidences and this was something that he wanted to look into thoroughly before sharing with his accomplices.

…

Peter arranged for the murder scene to be discovered just in time for the morning news cycle and then took himself to the diner. By the time he got there it was all over the news, including some leaked video footage of the crime scene. He was pleased to see that the story had gone national and contained more than enough information to bring the Argents running back to Beacon Hills.

“You’re looking happy today” said Stiles dryly as he made his way over to Peter’s customary table. 

“It’s been a good day” said Peter with an enigmatic smile, “I’d be happy to tell you all about it if you have some time later”.

“Uh huh, yeah, no, won’t be doing that, but have a good day OK?” said Stiles with more snark than Peter normally saw in his interactions with the boy.

Peter smiled as he left the diner. It had been a very good day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for reading.
> 
> I love seeing Peter in planning mode - hope you like it.


	10. Introductions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is some homophobic language in this chapter. Just wanted to give the heads up.
> 
> Let me know it there are additional warnings/tags you think I need to put in.
> 
> I should also give a shout out to the Empire Trilogy, from which I drew some words of inspiration for this chapter.

“Your boyfriends’s here” said Janice, one of his fellow service workers, with a smirk. Stiles looked up and sure enough, there was Peter sitting at his customary table.

Despite some lingering misgivings about the man’s motivations, Stiles had almost come to enjoy his daily interactions with Peter. At the very least, he had stopped wanting to avoid the man, although that was probably influenced by the fact that Peter’s tips were the only thing keeping him solvent at this point. 

He had spent considerable time debating whether he should keep that first over the top tip. However, the harsh reality of his new life had meant that immediate need trumped any fears he had about what Peter might ask for in return. Dealing with Peter’s possible demands was a tomorrow problem.

For the longest time though, Peter hadn’t asked for anything and gradually Stiles began to think that he wouldn’t. The thinly veiled request for a date had given him some pause, but when all his refusal had prompted was an amused smile, and the tips and friendly conversation kept coming, Stiles resolved to think of it as a momentary lapse. 

“Morning Peter, the usual?” said Stiles with a smile as he approached Peter’s usual table. 

“Just coffee for now, I’m waiting on some additional guests” said Peter.

“OK……..” said Stiles with raised eyebrows.

“I do know other people you know” said Peter with an amused smile. “I have a whole life outside of this diner”.

“Really? You’re here so often I figured this was your full social calendar.”

“Not at all. Although it might be the most enjoyable” Peter responded with a pointed look at Stiles.

Well that was hard to misinterpret thought Stiles, feeling uncomfortable again. Even if Peter was a genuinely good guy, and it was a big if, flirtation wasn't something Stiles could handle right now. 

…

As soon as he said the words, Peter knew it was a mistake. Clearly the boy wasn’t ready for any kind of intimacy, or even the suggestion of it. He’d known it, had a whole plan about how to overcome it, but had stupidly lost himself in the moment.

Oh well, it wouldn’t be the last mistake he would make with the boy. Battles did not always go as intended; the brilliant man, the master tactician, was the one who could turn setbacks into advantage. With that in mind Peter said “sorry, sorry, I shouldn’t have said that, it was just reflex. I can see it makes you uncomfortable and that’s the last thing I would want to do, really”.

“No, its fine” said the boy quickly, eyes down.

“It’s not. I waited tables when I was working my way through college” lied Peter. “I know what wait staff have to tolerate in places like this, what you’ve had to put up with here and how much it bothers you. Truthfully, I think that’s why I tend to overcompensate in my tipping, which I’m guessing you’ve also noticed” he said sheepishly.

“I had noticed, yes” said Stiles looking up at Peter again. “I should probably thank you” he went on haltingly.

“No, no” said Peter. “That’s not what I meant at all. It's me who should be thanking you for not calling me on it. I know its weird. I suppose I just see something of myself in you and its kind of a way of paying if forward” he said with a tentative smile.

“Thanks anyway” said Stiles, his whole posture relaxing. “Maybe I’ll be able to do the same for someone else someday”.

“I’m sure you will. You’re going through a tough time now, but it will make you stronger” responded Peter, fighting to maintain a kindly tone when all he wanted to was howl in victory at finally making some tangible progress with the boy.

“OK, now that we’ve moved into the realm of clichés I think its time to put a stop to this before we go too far down the sincerity rabbithole” said Stiles regaining some of his usual spirit.

Peter smiled. “Indeed. Perfect timing too, my guests are just arriving”. 

“Great, I’ll be back to take your orders in a few minutes” Stiles said, happy to have an excuse to retreat after the rather intense exchange.

As he moved through the other tables in his section, he subtly assessed Peter’s new companions. They were both striking and appeared to know Peter well if their body language was any indication. He wondered what the connection was. Were they friends, family or was there a romantic entanglement or some kind? 

On his next surreptitious glance at the table, he found 3 sets of eyes looking at him, Peters’ combined with a raised eyebrow. At the gesture, Stiles quickly hurried over.

“Ready to order?” he said brightly as he looked around the table.

“Yes, but first I should introduce you” said Peter. “Stiles, this is my niece Laura and my nephew Derek.”

“Welcome to the diner” said Stiles with a smile, feeling the smallest sense of relief at the explanation.

“Well we’re certainly looking forward to it” said Laura. “Uncle Peter has had nothing but good things to say about the place”.

“Well don’t get too excited, it’s a pretty simple place, but the cherry pie’s fresh today” he said quickly.

“Great. Cherry pie and coffee all round would be amazing.” said Peter handing back his menu.

…

“OK what was that?” said Laura.

“Whatever could you mean niece? said Peter with a carefully arched eyebrow.

“You were nice to the waiter, really nice” she responded.

“Laura, how you wound me” said Peter, pretending to be offended. “I was simply being polite. The young man brings me coffee every morning and the least I can do is exercise some common courtesy.”

“I think what Laura is saying is that you don’t do courtesy, especially not in places like this.” said Derek with some amusement. “How did you even find yourself here in the first place? I didn’t think you darkened the door of establishments that didn’t have a Michelin star?” 

Peter was about to provide a suitably snarky response when his nose caught an abrupt souring of Stiles scent and he turned to see one of the other patrons in the establishment running his hand up the inside of the boy’s thigh. Incensed, he leapt up from the table, but before he could make his way across the room, Stiles had grabbed the offending hand and was twisting it back painfully as the man fell to the floor gasping in pain. Impressed, Peter strolled the last few steps to the table to see what would happen next.

“I think you broke my wrist!” the man wheezed “you’re going to fucking pay, you faggot, wait until the cops get onto you”. 

Before Stiles could respond, Peter stepped into the fray, saying, “I think a better strategy for you might be to apologise profusely to this young man for your highly inappropriate behaviour and count yourself lucky if he doesn’t press charges against you”. 

“What are you talking about, he assaulted me!” said the sorry excuse for humanity.

“Well from where I was sitting at that table over there” Peter said gesturing to the table where Derek and Laura were watching the exchange with wide eyes, “it looked like you were sexually assaulting a minor, who was simply defending himself.”

“Exactly” said Stiles as the man paled, giving another vicious twist before letting the man go and stepping back with a huff of disgust. 

As the man started to look belligerent again Stiles added “I also think it unlikely that the Sheriff would throw his son in jail for dealing with a piece of shit like you”. 

Peter’s head whipped around to Stiles, as surprised at the man on the floor, who had visibly deflated at Stiles’ declaration. As the man picked himself up and went to follow his companions out the door, Peter put a hand on his arm, saying in a hard voice “Apology. Tip. Now”. 

“Sorry, sorry” said the man quickly as he threw some notes on the table. Peter noted the denominations before letting him go with a final warning, “don’t let me see you in here again”.

“You know, I had it under control” said Stiles watching the door of the diner slam behind the fleeing man.

“I could see that. But you can’t blame a man for wanting to join the fun can you?” Peter said cheekily.

“Fair enough.” Stiles said with a smile. “Oh, and bye the way, I’m not a minor either.”

“Noted” said Peter “but you have to admit that the expression on that dirtbag’s face when I said you were was priceless”.

“Yes it was. Now, why don’t I get you that pie? I think we’ve made enough of a spectacle” said Stiles, gesturing around the diner as several patrons hastily averted their eyes.

Peter nodded, heading back to his table where two very amused family members awaited him.

...

“Well, that answers the question about why this diner” said Laura with a wide grin.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” said Peter, fixing his niece and nephew with an innocent stare.

“Ah hah, well, just make sure he doesn’t get caught in the crossfire” said Laura, her smile fading.

Derek just grunted, but looked across at the boy with concern as he returned with their pie.


	11. Kindness of Strangers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles begins to rethink who he should trust.

Today had been a good day, thought Stiles.

Since embarking on this new life, every day had been an exercise in trying not to succumb to his fear. At no time had he felt truly safe. Not in his apartment, not in the streets and certainly not in the diner where wandering eyes and hands were an occupational hazard. Today though, today he stood up, stood up and showed that he wasn’t going to be a victim anymore. Today he had taken something of himself back.

That night as he tried to get to sleep with music pounding through the thin walls, Stiles thought about the kindness of strangers. 

He had left to show his father that he could stand on his own, but the more distance he had from his old life, he realised that most people didn’t stand on their own, they didn’t have to, they had friends and family who stood with them. That to him seemed to be the great divide. In his old life, those he knew, were for the most part surrounded by people who supported them when things got tough. In his current abode, he was surrounded by people who were, by necessity, living without a safety net. The difference in outcomes was stark.

Stiles had always supported his father. When his father stopped coping after his mother’s passing, he put his own grief aside and stepped in to cook, clean and cover for his father when the drinking overtook him. He had been happy to do it, had wanted his father to be able to hold his head tall in the community and had never told anyone the lengths he had to go to behind the scenes to allow his father to maintain his public persona. Stiles considered them a team and had never doubted that his love and support was reciprocated, not until his father had spoken those callous words to him. Not only had those words stripped bare the illusion that Stiles had someone to catch him when he fell, but they demonstrated how little notice the Sheriff had taken of Stiles’ efforts to help his dad over so many years.

Despite all of this, when Stiles first left his house, he had honestly assumed that his father would come to his senses within a day or so, seeking him out with abject apologies. Stiles had even pictured the conversation and how he would forgive his father for his thoughtless words. 

When a week had passed without any word from the Sheriff, or Scott for that matter, Stiles started checking the missing persons reports. He had assumed after updating his address with the school that he would be easy to find, but perhaps there had been some bureaucratic snafu preventing his father from tracking him down. However, as the weeks passed with no contact and no missing person report, the truth of his situation slowly dawned on him. No-one was looking for him, he was alone in the world.

That was until today. Peter had spoken up for him today and clearly would have protected him physically if Stiles hadn’t been able to handle that customer himself. Peter who he had kept at arm’s length because he seemed a little ‘off’ had been there for him when his father and his best friend hadn’t.

Perhaps it was time to re-examine who he trusted. He was tired of being alone in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading this far.
> 
> Comments, kudos and especially feedback are greatly appreciated. 
> 
> I hope you liked this Stiles centric chapter.


	12. Warning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter gets to know the Sheriff.

Peter watched the Sheriff exit the police station.

The Sheriff wasn’t a stranger to Peter. In fact, Peter had given serious consideration to adding the Sheriff to his list until had had found unequivocal proof that the Sheriff hadn’t had anything to do with the fire or the subsequent cover up.

Stiles’ revelation that he was the son of Noah Stilinski had genuinely surprised Peter. Despite their first meeting in the depths of Beacon Hills suburbia, he had thought the boy to be alone in the world. The conditions in which he lived and worked spoke to a person who had no-one. Why would Stiles live in squalor in the worst corner of a town in which his father was the Sheriff? What sort of a father did Stiles have?

Stiles had been magnificent today. Watching him put that buffoon in his place had warmed something in Peter’s chest. Something that had been dormant for a long time. As Peter stepped up behind the Sheriff, sinking the tranquiliser into his neck, he knew it was time to draw his dance with the boy to a close

…

It had taken longer than expected for the Sheriff to wake up, likely due to the alcohol Peter could still smell in his bloodstream.

Peter watched with cruel amusement as the Sheriff started jerking in his bindings. He could see the moment the man realised the seriousness of his predicament. His whole body stilled at the same time as his heart rate skyrocketed. Peter enjoyed his terror for a few more minutes before approaching to remove the noise cancelling headphone, wincing as he quickly turned off the deafening punk metal spewing out of them. He elected to leave the gag and blindfold for now.

Peter wouldn’t normally have worried about such precautions, but he hadn’t yet decided whether the Sheriff would make it out of his interrogation alive and it seemed prudent to leave his options open. 

Taking a seat behind his laptop Peter fired up his text to voice application, deciding that ‘Ryan’ could take the lead in today’s interrogation.

_“Hello Sheriff Stilinski. Thank you for being here with us today. We have a few questions for you and if you co-operate you will leave here unharmed. Lack of co-operation will be met with outcomes that you would find sub-optimal to say the least. Nod if you understand.”_

At the Sheriff’s quick nod, Peter tapped a few more keys on his computer and the tinny voice continued:

_“In order to facilitate your responding to our queries we are going to remove your gag. When the gag is removed you are to refrain from speaking unless it is in response to a direct question. Any responses are expected to be honest and comprehensive and are to be provided in a calm and courteous manner. Please confirm that you understand and accept these conditions.”_

The Sheriff nodded again, and Peter proceeded to remove his gag, pleased to see that he was keeping his mouth shut for now.

_“Tell us what you know about the Hale fire.”_

“Not much, I was only a deputy when it happened” said the Sheriff.

Not entirely true, thought Peter watching the Sheriff carefully.

_“That’s not a promising start Sheriff Stilinski”_ said the computer-generated voice, as Peter stepped forward and drove his fist into the Sheriff’s stomach.

Over the sound of the Sheriff’s wheezing, it went on to say _“Let’s try that again. What do you know about the Hale fire?”_

Just as Peter was thinking that he might have to administer some additional encouragement, the Sheriff said “I was only a deputy at the time of the fire. The Sheriff at the time filed it as an accident shortly after it happened, so no real investigation was performed, at least as far as I know.”

As Peter stepped forward to express his dissatisfaction at the response, the Sheriff quickly said “Look, I did have reason to look a little more at the fire, but it wasn’t back then. There have been some murders, recent murders and the only link that I could find was that they all had something to do with that fire.”

_“Better. Why do you think they were all killed?”_

“I honestly don’t know” said the Sheriff. “It could be revenge. It could be a cover up. At this point I’m still trying to pull the pieces together. I think the science teacher at the local high school might know something, but I haven’t had a chance to talk to him yet. There was also a substitute teacher who left shortly after the fire. The paperwork on her was thin and I can’t verify her identity with the Department of Education.”

_“Have you identified anyone else you want to talk to?”_

“Peter Hale. He was in the house when it burned, the only adult who survived. Came out of his coma just before the murders started – that can’t be a co-incidence.” 

This was getting a little close to home thought Peter. Time to change tack.

_“We understand you have a son,_ _Mieczyslaw. Tell us about him.”_

At this change in topic, Peter’s nostrils were overcome with the sour stench of shame coming from the Sheriff.

“I’ve told you everything I know. My son doesn’t have anything to do with this” said the Sheriff quietly.

_“Would you like your son to remain alive? Yes or No?”_

“Yes”.

True, thought Peter, good.

_“Do you know where he is? Yes or No?”_

“No.”

True again, thought Peter.

_“Why not?”_

“He needed some space, so he hasn’t been at home for a while.” 

Peter could hardly believe his ears, he had first tracked Stiles to the diner months ago.

“He’s eighteen” added the Sheriff defensively.

_“When are you expecting him back?”_

“I don’t know. He’ll come back when he’s ready.”

As far as Peter could tell from the Sheriff’s heartbeat he believed what he was saying, although how the man could be oblivious to the fact that Stiles had been living on his own in the worst part of Beacon Hills for months was a mystery. 

_“Do you love your son Sheriff?”_

“Of course I do.”

The smell of shame was back, but as far as Peter could tell the Sheriff was telling the truth.

_“Good to know. We have some requests for you. If you fulfill these requests promptly and make no effort to reach out to your son, you will both remain alive. If not, well, it will be a painful death for both of you. Do you understand?”_

“Yes”.

_“We_ _’ll start with_ _a list of names and an email address. You will send digital copies of everything the police department has on those names, to the email address specified, by 6pm tomorrow._ _Be thorough. Do you understand?”_

“Yes”.

True, thought Peter.

_“Will you comply with our request?”_

“Yes” said the Sheriff quickly

False, thought Peter as he delivered another bruising hit to the Sheriff’s midsection.

_“You don’t appear to be taking this seriously. Perhaps a demonstration of how easily we could get to_ _Mieczyslaw_ _. We have already proven that we can snatch you whenever we want.”_

At that Peter replaced the Sheriff’s gag and headphones, making sure to ramp up the volume. Once the Sheriff was secured, he used a burner phone to call the diner, posing as a concerned neighbour and asked to speak to Stiles.

As he heard the familiar footsteps nearing the phone, he removed the Sheriff’s headphones and held the speaker near his ear.

“Hey man. Thanks for calling. Don’t tell me there’s another problem with my apartment” said Stiles with a familiar tone of exasperation.

Shutting off the phone, Peter removed the Sheriff’s gag and returned to the computer.

_“Will you comply?”_

“Yes” said the Sheriff.

This time Peter could tell he meant it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading.
> 
> I really struggled with this chapter and the dynamic between Peter and the Sheriff. 
> 
> I'm also a little unsure of how to make the dialogue work when one of the speakers is a computer - in the end I just went with italics for the computer voice. Hopefully that makes it easy to work out who is saying what even if the grammar/punctuation isn't strictly correct.


	13. Breakthrough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter finally gets Stiles where he wants him.

“Hi Peter” said Stiles smiling as he spotted Peter making his way into the diner.

He was glad to see the older man. It had been a few days since the altercation in the diner and he’d been disappointed when Peter hadn’t been in. Truth be told he had assumed that Peter, who had been so insistent on befriending Stiles, would be quick to return to the diner after the incident.

“What can I get you today?” said Stiles, trailing Peter to his usual table.

“How are you?” responded Peter, as if Stiles hadn’t even spoken. “I’ve been meaning to check on you, but I haven’t been able to get away from work and I don’t have your number” he added with a raised eyebrow.

Stiles couldn’t help the smile that escaped at Peter’s concern. “It was nothing. You don’t need to look after me. I’m fine.”

“It’s nice that you’re concerned though” Stiles added quickly at the slightly skeptical expression on Peter’s face. “It’s nice to know that someone cares.”

“Always” said Peter seriously.

“Um, OK. Breakfast?” said Stiles gulping in the face of Peter’s sincerity.

“Of course, how could I forget? A coffee and a cherry danish would be great” said Peter.

“You’re going to look like a cherry danish soon” quipped Stiles.

“What can I say. I know what I like.”   
“Ah, huh” said Stiles, still smiling as he made his way to the kitchen.  
…

Peter eyed Stiles’ retreating form hungrily, placating himself with the thought that it shouldn’t be too long before he could have the boy again.

Today’s greeting from Stiles represented a clear shift in the dynamic between them. What followed was even more encouraging. Every time there was a lull in customers, Stiles would gravitate towards his table, trading quips everything from the latest Marvel blockbuster to his fellow diners. It was delightful. But not enough.

It was time to move their relationship out of the diner. 

Fortunately, Stiles’ altercation with his unruly customer had finally revealed to Peter what he needed to do to make that happen. The boy was stubbornly independent, but his reaction to wandering hands had shown the fear lurking just below the surface, the exploitation of which would force him into the hands of someone. Peter wanted to be that someone and thanks to his deal with Sheriff and some illegal phone tapping, he would be.

It took Peter some time to move all his pieces into place.

He started by looking into the local talent, such as it was in Beacon Hills, to see what sort of assistance he might be able to purchase.

He also looked in on the next person on his list, Adrian Harris. A few carefully worded questions had Stiles speaking with some passion about the chemistry teacher. ‘Total douche canoe” was the somewhat inarticulate summary. While Peter would have expressed it somewhat differently, he couldn’t help but agree with the boy after meeting the odious man. He made sure to take particular care in his questioning of the chemistry teacher and was rewarded with an abundance of information. He completed his punishment with a bloody tableau featuring the teacher sprawled naked atop a chemistry table, a gaping gash between his legs and genitals stuffed into the mouth that had been so scathing of his boy. Peter ensured that his work would be well publicised by tipping off the media before the cops would have a chance to find the man. All in all, a good night’s work.

Throughout these dark machinations Peter kept going to the diner. 

He spoke to Stiles every day, talking with him about his childhood, his old friends and his hopes for the future. He wanted Stiles to find in him all that he had been missing from his father and his best friend. Someone who was genuinely interested in Stiles, cared about Stiles and supported the boy in his endeavours.

Derek and Laura became unwitting accomplices in winning Stiles over, coming to the diner with him several times a week. Their shared experience of being scared and very nearly alone made them empathise with the boy immediately and Stiles couldn’t help but respond in kind. Seen through their eyes he was a caring uncle and family man. A man to be trusted. They were very effective ‘human credentials’. 

When news of Adrian Harris’ sensational demise led the local news, Peter made sure he was there to listen to Stiles, stoking his concerns about the dangers abounding in the small town. It was the perfect excuse to offer his cell number, with the request that Stiles call him anytime if he felt threatened or scared. It was a sign of the trust he had built with the boy, that after a moment of hesitation, Stiles agreed to put the number in his phone and offered his number in return. 

It was a week later when Peter moved the final pieces of his plan into place.

He made sure that it was a night that he had no other extracurricular activities, tiding his apartment, stocking it with food and making sure that Laura and Derek were out of town chasing down some ingredients they would need in their inevitable showdown with the hunters.

By now he had become familiar with Stiles work schedule and he knew that tonight was one of his late shifts, which would have Stiles stumbling into his apartment, if it could even be called that, just before midnight.

He started by entering the apartment and turning everything over, throwing the meagre contents of the fridge on the floor and ensuring that the bed wouldn’t be fit for anyone to sleep in that night.

He then made sure to be in the diner around the time that Stiles clocked off so that he could offer to walk him home. This was something else had made a habit of in the preceding weeks. Not every day, but just regularly enough that it wasn’t seen as unusual.

When they got to Stiles’ apartment, Peter, conscious of the boy’s skittishness, was always careful to say his goodbyes before Stiles went inside. Tonight was no exception. He stepped back and watched Stiles walk into the building. He made a show of checking his phone in front of the building as if he was trying to decide what to do next that evening. Right on cue he could hear shouting coming from the direction of Stiles’ apartment. He shouldered through the thin door with ease and ran towards the boy’s apartment. 

Two large men were in the room, one of them holding Stiles down, knee in his back, using one arm to hold him in place and the other working its way towards the front of his pants. The other continued ransacking the room. He could see from their faces that Stiles had given a good account of himself, but clearly he wasn’t up to taking on two experienced criminals.

“Stiles” Peter called out, injecting just the right amounts of surprise and terror.

He leapt at the man holding Stiles down and wrenched him off the boy. As the man slammed into the wall behind him, he stepped towards the second man, kicking him in the direction of the door, before rushing to Stiles’ side. 

“Are you alright! Can you hear me” he asked urgently .

Stiles, clearly shaken, just nodded.

Having confirmed that Stiles was not seriously injured, Peter turned his eyes towards the two men, taking a step towards them. At this, both men took off through the door. Peter didn’t pursue.

“I’m so glad you’re alright” whispered Peter hugging Stiles to him. 

“I should have… I don’t know why I couldn’t… “ sobbed Stiles.

“It’s OK, there were two of them and they had the element of surprise” said Peter soothingly. “There was nothing you could have done”. 

“I should have …” began Stiles again.

“The only thing you could have done was have better security and judging by how easily I was able to get into your building just now, there wasn’t much you could have done there either” responded Peter.

At that reminder of Peter’s actions, Stiles sat up, rubbed the back of his hand across his eyes, and eyes downcast said “thanks for stepping in, you didn’t have to, I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t been here”.

“The thought that I might not have been here terrifies me” said Peter seriously. “Look, you can’t stay here tonight, the door’s broken, the place is a mess. Come and stay with me.”

“I couldn’t impose on you like that” said Stiles quickly. 

“You wouldn’t be imposing Stiles” said Peter. “You would actually be doing me a favour. There’s no way I could get any sleep tonight if I left you here. Let alone the grief I would get from Laura and Derek if didn’t make sure you had somewhere to stay. Look, if you feel uncomfortable staying with me, let me pay for a room at a decent hotel at least.” 

When Peter got to his offer of a hotel room, Stiles started shaking his head, Peter had already done so much for him. A hotel room would cost a fortune and Stiles would never be able to repay him.

“No, no … you don’t need to pay for a hotel room.”

“That’s settled then. Let’s pack up anything you want to keep and you can come to my place.”

“That’s not what I meant, I can say here” said Stiles, but even to his ears the words sounded halfhearted. The adrenaline was starting to wear off and he was feeling more tired by the second.

“Nonsense” said Peter, starting to look around for something to pack Stiles meager belongings into. “You’ll come with me and I won’t hear one more word about it.”

“Just one night” said Stiles faintly, dragging himself to his feet.

"Of course. Whatever you're comfortable with."

"Its not that, I just can't..." 

"I know. It's going to be fine" said Peter, throwing the last of the boy's belongings into a bag. "Let's get out of here. It will all be better in the morning."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading.
> 
> I really enjoyed writing this chapter. I love it when one of Peter's plans comes together.


	14. Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aftermath of Stiles traumatic experience.

Stiles couldn’t stop shaking.

The quiet of Peter’s spare bedroom, so comforting at first, now felt oppressive. With no distractions, he couldn’t stop thinking about what happened earlier that night. The memory of rough hands sliding down his stomach, morphed into another night, another man’s hands, but that was something he just couldn’t allow back into his consciousness. ‘Don’t think about it, don’t think about it ….’ he chanted to himself, trying unsuccessfully to steady his breathing.

He didn’t know what he would have done if Peter hadn’t come through his door. He could see where it was headed, and he didn’t think it was something he could have come back from. Not again. 

What was it about him that seemed to invite this? To be victimised not once but twice. What were the odds? At that thought he curled onto his side, pressing his fist against his mouth to stop himself from screaming at the sheer injustice of it all.

He mustn’t have been wholly successful though because soon after he heard a small knock at the door and Peter appeared with a concerned look on his face. “Are you OK Stiles?”

At the sight of Peter in the doorway, Stiles could feel something in his chest loosen.

“I’m… I’m fine” he said haltingly. “Sorry for waking you.”

“Oh Stiles, don’t apologise. I should be the one asking for forgiveness. I shouldn’t have left you here by yourself after such a traumatic event. I just thought… I thought you might want to be alone… but it was wrong to presume, I should have been here for you.”

“Don’t say that. You’ve always been there for me” said Stiles, realising it was true. Peter had been his saviour for some time now and tonight was just the most recent example.

“I’m glad” said Peter. “Would it help if I stayed here I the room with you tonight? I’ll sit on the chair in the corner.”

Stiles looked at the chair. It didn’t look comfortable at all. However, the thought of having to make it through the rest of the night alone in the room was more than he thought he could face right now. “Could you read to me? Just until I get to sleep?” 

“Of course. Any preferences?”

“Something fun.”

“Hmmm…. how about an adventure story?”

“Not Twilight.”

“You know they sold over 100 millions copies?”

“Vampires and werewolves aren’t really my thing … but more importantly, do you seriously have a copy of Twilight lying around?”

Peter chuckled. “Definitely not, but I wanted to see your expression at the thought.”

“Thank god, I thought was going to have to reassess my whole opinion of you” said Stiles mustering a small smile.

“It’s good to see you smiling. I’ll be back in a minute” said Peter, heading out of the room.

Stiles realised with surprise that the exchange with Peter had been enough to pull him out of his dark thoughts. His breathing was steady again and he could feel himself slowly relaxing into the soft sheets.

“Ready?” said Peter returning. At Stiles’ nod, Peter settled in the chair and started reading. 

“ _Hadrian could see little in the darkness, but he could hear them – the snapping of twigs, the crush of leaves, and the brush of grass. There were more than one, more than three, and they were closing in…._ ”

The sound of Peter’s voice was enough to keep the darkness at bay and soon Stiles drifted off into a deep sleep.

…

Peter watched Stiles as he slept.

The night had been a triumph on all counts. 

Stiles had been terrified when Peter entered his apartment. Peter hadn’t missed the hand sliding towards Stiles belt buckle and knew what that would have meant to the boy, especially after their first encounter. The men he had hired had done a truly wonderful job, traumatising Stiles enough to push him into Peter’s arms, without leaving any lasting physical damage.

When the intruders had been dealt with, all he could sense from Stiles was sincere relief at having been rescued. There had been no suspicion from the boy at the offer of a place to stay. Indeed, Stiles’ only objections had stemmed from a concern that Peter might be inconvenienced.

The fact that Stiles was sleeping with Peter in the room, was in fact able to sleep because Peter was there, was extremely satisfying.

Stiles was resilient though, and it wouldn’t be long before he would rally from this latest challenge as he had with those that had gone before it. Peter needed to progress his plan while the boy’s defence mechanisms were lowered and his feeling of gratitude towards Peter was still fresh in his mind.

With that thought in mind, Peter watched Stiles patiently until he saw him stir into semi-wakefulness a few hours later. Peter then arranged himself as if he had been falling asleep on the chair before dropping the book loudly onto the floor and sitting up sharply with a groan.

At that sound Stiles opened his eyes with a start before relaxing when he saw it was Peter. “You’re still here” he said softly.

“Of course, I told you I wouldn’t leave you alone.”

“What time is it?”

“About 4:30.”

“Have you been awake all this time?”

“I have been, but I think the hour is getting the best of me now” said Peter wryly.

“You can go back to your own bed. I’ll be fine” said Stiles somewhat unconvincingly.

“No, I made a promise. I should be able to catch an hour or two in this chair, that will be plenty. I’ve had nights with little sleep before” said Peter.

After a moment’s hesitation Stiles said, “that chair doesn’t really look like it was made with sleep in mind… just … just… we can share the bed … its fine … really … its enormous… you need some sleep tonight … just… its fine… really…” 

Stiles looked down, obviously embarrassed at his babbling. Peter found it delightful. 

Careful to control his expression so that Stiles wouldn’t see how thoroughly pleased he was, Peter assumed a solemn tone, saying “that would probably be better for my back…. as long as it doesn’t make you uncomfortable?” 

“I trust you” said Stiles seriously. 

Peter permitted himself a small smile in response.

“You know, you’re the one who should be worried, I tend to sleep like a starfish” said Stiles trying to lighten the tone.

“I’ll consider myself warned” said Peter stepping towards the bed. “Shall I read for a little while to help you get back to sleep?”

At Stiles’ nod, Peter settled himself onto the bed and continued regaling Stiles with the adventures of Hadrian and Royce.

Soon Stiles was asleep again and Peter pondered how to position himself when the boy woke up. There was no point trying to initiate anything, it would just frighten Stiles off. However, despite his understandable fears about intimacy, he could sense that Stiles had been starved of human touch. Peter just needed to offer this to Stiles in a non-threatening way. That in mind, Peter slid carefully under the covers and made his way over to the boy, gently spooning him from behind with an arm thrown loosely over his waist. Relaxing into the soft pillow, he breathed in the delicious smell of his boy with a profound sense of contentment.

…

Stiles stirred. His first thought was of feeling warm and protected and he sighed as he snuggled into the warmth at his back. As he made his up through the layers of wakefulness though, something felt off. At first it was just the soft sheets, better than anything he’d ever slept on before, but then came the chilling realisation that the warmth along his back meant he wasn’t alone in the bed. At this thought, his mind immediately went back to that night long ago and he froze, heart rate skyrocketing.

Before the panic took hold of him completely though he felt the body behind him move carefully away and a gentle voice say, “it’s OK Stiles, it’s just me, Peter”.

At the sound of Peter’s voice the breath he was holding came out of him in a rush and the events of the previous day finally came back to him. Peter had saved him and then stayed with him all night so he would feel safe. That sense of warmth of protection he had felt in the moment before full wakefulness had been Peter’s arm’s surrounding him.

Stiles rolled over to face Peter who was watching him from the other side of the bed with concern. "I'm alright. It just took me a few moments to remember where I was."

"How are you feeling?"

"Surprisingly good. Thanks again. Not just for scaring those assholes away but for staying with me last night. I hope you got some sleep at least?" 

"I slept like a log. Sorry if I startled you this morning. I had forgotten that I have a tendency to hold onto the nearest warm object when I'm asleep."

"It's no problem. I think it actually helped. Normally I'm a restless sleeper, but I don't think I moved at all last night."

Peter just smiled back at him. Just when Stiles was starting to feel like maybe he needed to say something, Peter pulled himself up and out of the bed.

"I don't know about you, but I think what we need is breakfast. Why don't I get some bacon frying and see whether Derek and Laura would like to join us?"

"Perfect" said Stiles, and for the first time in a long time it really was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading.
> 
> I know I am a bit behind in responding to comments but I have read each one and really appreciate the time you have taken to comment, it really brightens up my day.
> 
> I look forward to seeing if anyone can pick the book that Peter reads to Stiles. I really struggled to think what would be appropriate to the characters, so in the end I just picked a book that I really enjoy reading.
> 
> I should also add that I am not a Twilight hater. I read the books and watched the movies with as much guilty pleasure as the next person, although I have to say that I think there are some fanfics out there that are better than the original material. Just saying.


	15. Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I haven't updated for so long - family issues have left me with virtually no free time for 2 months. However I am determined to finish this fic, so here is the next chapter and I hope to get back to a weekly posting schedule soon. Thanks again to everyone who has read, kudos'ed, commented on and bookmarked this fic, it means the world to me that someone is reading it! I hope you like this instalment.

Peter stifled a groan as he stroked his cock roughly in the shower. 

Upon waking to find Stiles asleep in his arms, it had taken every ounce of the wolf’s self-control to stop himself from pulling down the boy’s soft sleep pants and shoving himself into the vulnerable teenager, holding him down and plunging, over and over into that delectable tight heat. 

Leaning against the tiles in his shower now, one hand firmly working his cock, he visualised flipping the boy over in the bright sunshine of his bedroom and pulling apart his pale thighs to expose the boy’s furled hole. He imagined lining up his cock, listening to Stiles gasp as his body struggled to accommodate Peter’s girth. He pictured his cock sliding in and out of the teenager, faster and faster as he selfishly chased his orgasm, before pulling out and watching his seed dripping down the boy’s thighs. The thought of marking Stiles in that way again was enough to tip him over the edge and he came with a muffled groan, semen spraying across the designer tiles.

He was glad for his restraint though. The initial intrigue he had felt upon hearing Stiles’ voice in the bodega had developed into a growing obsession with the boy that would not be assuaged by a quick fuck, no matter how enjoyable it might be. In time, Stiles would come to him not only willing, but eager to fulfill all of Peter’s basest desires. 

Peter just needed to build on the opportunity he had created for himself. Stiles was here in his apartment and here he would stay. The boy would not be returning to his apartment. Peter would burn it down if he had to, although he really hoped it didn’t come to that. 

Time to call in reinforcements he thought as he dried himself off.

…

After Peter left to shower and get breakfast started, Stiles dozed for a while before slowly taking stock of his surroundings. Everything after the attack the night before was a blur. He hardly remembered coming back to Peter’s apartment and would be hard pressed to describe anything about it.

Looking around his room now though, the difference between his living conditions and Peter’s were stark. From the thick carpet to what looked like original art on the walls, a sense of luxury permeated the entire space. It even smelled good, like the lobby of an expensive hotel. 

Resisting the impulse to sink back against soft pillows, Stiles pulled himself out of the bed towards what looked to be an ensuite, the aches in his body a physical reminder of the night before. 

At the sight of his bag sitting neatly on the floor outside the bathroom, Stiles felt another flood of warmth for his benefactor, who seemed to think of everything.

…

Stiles felt like a new person after availing himself of Peter’s soft towels and excellent water pressure. After pulling on his least shabby pair of jeans and a mostly clean T-shirt, he followed the heavenly scent of bacon to the promised breakfast.

As he rounded the corner to the kitchen, all conversation stopped as three sets of Hale eyes examined him closely. 

Laura was the first to say something. “I’m so glad you’re OK. Peter was just telling us about the break-in at your apartment. You are OK right?”

“I’m fine” said Stiles. 

“You don’t look fine” said Derek bluntly.

“Thanks a lot! Really, it looks worse than it is, I’ll be fine in a few days” responded Stiles quickly. Looking down, he said, “it could have been a lot worse and it would have been if Peter hadn’t stepped in.”

“Thank god for that” said Laura. “Did you recognise them? What did the police say?”

Stiles couldn’t believe he hadn’t even thought about the police. It had happened so quickly and with Peter whisking him away to safety, it just hadn’t crossed his mind, or Peter’s it seemed. At the thought of having to having to explain this latest weakness to his father though his blood ran cold. 

As if Peter could sense his burgeoning panic he intervened, saying “it’s a bad area, I think they were just opportunists looking for something to sell for their next hit, I doubt the authorities could do anything”.

Stiles was grateful enough for the save that he didn’t contradict Peter, even though the comment didn’t quite ring true. Junkies looking for a quick score would have run off at the first sign they had been discovered rather than staying to do whatever it was that they were going to do with Stiles. Pushing that disturbing thought away Stiles added “dealing the police would be worse than dealing with the junkies, better to let it go and get a better door”.

“You’re not seriously thinking of going back there are you Stiles?” exclaimed Laura. “Uncle Peter, tell me you’ve offered Stiles a place to stay until he can find a safe place to live?” said Laura accusingly.

Internally congratulating his niece for her wonderful, if unwitting, timing, Peter fixed a look of consternation on his face before saying “it was all I could do to get Stiles to stay here last night, he was all set to tough it out in his doorless apartment”.

“Stiles, you can’t go back there. Peter has heaps of room here, more room than he needs, much more. Please just stay.”

“Look, I’m really grateful for your concern and despite my resistance last night, I’m glad I stayed. I wouldn’t have slept at all otherwise, especially with no front door” Stiles said with a wry grimace. “But” he went on somewhat haltingly “if I don’t go back there today, I’m not sure I’ll be able to.”

At this, it appeared that Stiles had rendered Laura speechless. However, just when Peter thought he might have to step in to rescue the situation Derek spoke up, saying quietly “I know you need to find a way of taking back control and sometimes the only way over is through. I get that. I really do. But I also know that can mean losing yourself on the way. I know you think you have to because you only have yourself, but you don’t. You have us, not just Peter, all of us. I don’t know what you were like before whatever it is that happened to you to put you in this position, but if you let us in, you’ll get back to that person a lot faster. I tried to be strong for too long and I’m still trying to back to who I was. I wish I’d let someone in sooner.”

“Me too…” whispered Laura quietly reaching out to her brother.

Peter stepped away from where he was assembling breakfast and came to stand behind Laura, placing a hand gently on her shoulder. “Look how you’re helping us already Stiles” said Peter earnestly. “Stay here, we’ll help you be strong, that’s what family is for.”

Stiles was unbelievably touched by the sentiment, enough that he couldn’t help but say “yes”.


	16. Vulnerability

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year. Let's hope 2021 is better than 2020. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this latest installment.

“What’s that?” said Peter, walking into the kitchen.

“Oh, um, waffles, or what’s left of them anyway” said Stiles jumping up quickly to clear his plate from the table. “Is that OK? I’ll replace all the ingredients. I just haven’t had a chance to get to the store today” he went on hurriedly as he rinsed the offending dishes and placed them in the dishwasher.

Stiles had been trying to be a model house guest since Peter had been kind enough to take him in. He hadn’t realised until he moved out of his old apartment, just how much of a toll his living situation had been taking on him. Living in a constant state of alert had left him trying to get through the days in a perpetual fog, one which the security afforded by Peter's apartment had lifted after mere days. It felt amazing. Amazing enough that he didn’t want to do anything that might give Peter any second thoughts. 

Straightening up from the dishwasher he glanced over at Peter, who was staring at him with a look of fond exasperation. “Stiles, this is your home for as long as you want it. While I appreciate tidiness, I’m not going to throw you out because you make some mess in the kitchen, OK?” When Stiles didn’t respond immediately, Peter added, “and I certainly don’t expect you to replace any groceries you use”. 

“Peter, I can’t just….” Stiles started in protest. “No” said Peter firmly. “Your presence here is worth far more to me than some groceries, which I can well afford.” 

Stiles couldn’t help but smile in the face of Peter’s stubbornness. “You have to let me do something to thank you.” 

“No thanks are necessary” Peter responded primly. “However, perhaps you could answer my earlier question - what is that?” he went on, pointing to the papers strewn over the kitchen table.

“Oh… that’s what you were asking about?”

“Indeed. Now are you going to put me out of my suspense?”

“Well, after all that it isn’t very exciting, just some homework.”

“Homework? I hadn’t realised you were still at school. Where have you been finding the time?”

“Well” said Stiles grimacing slightly, “it hasn’t been easy, but my grades were solid enough that the school allowed me to complete my senior year by correspondence. That way I can fit the reading and assignments around my shifts at the diner”. 

Thus far Peter hadn’t pushed Stiles to talk about his past, not wanting to spook the boy. However, perhaps this discussion about Stiles’ schooling could be an avenue to get him talking about some aspects of his past. It was a risk to start asking questions that the boy might feel uncomfortable with, however Peter knew that developing the kind of trust he was going to need with Stiles couldn’t come without the boy opening up about why he left the safety of the Sheriff’s house to make his own way in the world. Thus resolved, Peter took a steadying breath before saying casually “they let you do that without any parental permission?”

Stiles looked up at him with a slightly raised eyebrow saying, “I’m 18, no parental permission required.”

“OK… it just seemed like the obvious question, but I’m glad to hear that you’re embracing your majority.”

“Well I wouldn’t say embracing, but I’m certainly happy to be of an age where I can make my own decisions.”

“Fair enough. What about your friends though? I’ve never seen anyone come visit you at the diner. What did they make of you dropping out of school?”

“Well, the embarrassing truth is that I only really had one friend, Scott, and I guess he was too caught up on the new girl at school to even notice that I haven’t been there for months.”

New girl? Interesting, thought Peter. How many new students could Beacon Hills High conceivably be welcoming? “Surely no girl is so captivating that your friends wouldn’t notice your absence for months? Not even a text message?”

“Nothing” said Stiles sourly.

“And who is this paragon?”

“Alison Argent, Scott’s Disney princess.”

It took all of Peter’s considerable self-control to prevent any outward reaction to the Argent name. Internally though, his thoughts were roiling. When did she arrive, who were her parents, what was she doing in the school? Carefully he started with, “oh… when did she enroll at the school?”

“Just after…” Stiles started to say, but then stopped abruptly before saying “ah, mid-October”.

Peter knew what Stiles had been about to say and it meant that the Argent girl started at Beacon Hills High within days of his leaving the hospital. That couldn’t be a co-incidence. But why would the Argent clan react so swiftly to him leaving the hospital? He hadn’t started to leave a trail of bodies until some weeks after his escape. 

Perhaps it was time to reconnect Stiles with this Scott. It hadn’t been part of his original plan, but Scott’s connection to the Argents was too good an opportunity to pass up. In any event, it didn’t seem as if Scott was much of a friend, which should make it easy to excise him from Stiles’ life when he had served his purpose. If he proved more tenacious, Peter could always just kill him. Either way, Scott was a problem that could be easily solved in the future.

Mind made up, Peter went over and placed a hand gently on Stiles’ shoulder. “First love can be overwhelming for some people, so overwhelming that they ignore everything else in their lives for a time, even best friends” said Peter quietly. “By now though, your friend might have made his way through that first flush of love. He might want to reconnect but maybe he’s embarrassed and thinks it’s too late to reach out to you now?”

Stiles looked up at Peter. He could see the boy’s thoughts wavering between skepticism and wanting to believe that Peter was right. “What can it hurt to send Scott a message and see if he wants to catch up?” said Peter.

“I suppose so” said Stiles grudgingly. 

“Perhaps meet on neutral ground though. I get the sense that privacy is important to you?” said Peter, not wanting Scott or the Argents anywhere near his apartment. At Stiles small nod he went on, “until you know that you can trust Scott, you want to be able to resume your life without interference, so best to meet him in a place not associated with your current living circumstances.”

“Absolutely. Way ahead of you” said the teenager emphatically. “I was thinking of the place where we used to go for curly fries before… well before things changed”.

“Good idea” said Peter, looking at Stiles expectantly.

“You want me to send it now?”

“No time like the present” said Peter briskly.

“You don’t think I’ll do it” said Stiles accusingly.

“I think that this is important, and I don’t want to give you a chance to overthink things. Its just a text message. Your friend will either answer or he won’t, but you won’t have lost anything.”

“Except my pride”.

“What is pride in the face of friendship?” said Peter, genuinely meaning it, although not in the context of Scott and Stiles’ relationship.

“Fine, fine, doing it” said Stiles quickly tapping out a message on his phone and pressing send. “Let’s see what he says” he went on, placing his phone on the table and staring at it determinedly.

“Stop that… a watched phone will never ping, or some such thing” said Peter knowing that no answer would be immediately forthcoming, since no phone calls or messages now went to or from Stiles’ phone without Peter approving them, which he wasn’t about to do in front of Stiles.

“So bossy” said Stiles with a smile as he placed his phone face down on the table. 

“Well you need someone to keep you on the straight and narrow” said Peter affectionately. “On that note I’ll stop disturbing you so that you can finish off your homework. Let me know if you need any help.”

“Thanks Peter”.

...

Later that evening, Peter could hear Stiles tossing and turning as he was wont to do when something was bothering him. 

Peter knocked softly on Stiles’ door before stepping quietly into the room, saying “are you alright? I can hear you tossing and turning from next door.”

“Sorry. I’ve just been running through about a thousand possible conversations with Scott in my head … if he ever gets back to me. It’s making it hard to power down enough for sleep”, said Stiles.

Peter was disappointed to hear that Scott hadn’t replied to the text he had reviewed and released a few hours ago. However, not one to look a gift-horse in the mouth, he saw no reason not to capitalise on this new opportunity. “What if I stayed in here with you? The company seemed to calm you down that first night you were here.”

“I can’t ask you to do that again. I’m embarrassed just thinking of how I asked you to stay with me like a child. I’ll get to sleep eventually, and, in the meantime, I promise to keep the noise down.”

At this point a lesser man would have given up, but over the time that Peter had been carefully observing and getting to know Stiles, he had realised one important thing about the boy. His need to care for people. That had been wasted on the Sheriff and on Scott, but while Peter genuinely appreciated Stiles' caring nature, he wasn’t above exploiting it to get what he wanted. 

Taking a deep breath Peter allowed some of his memories of the fire to shine through as he looked right into Stiles eyes, saying haltingly “the truth is… that I have nightmares too …and…and… the night I was in here with you was the deepest sleep I’ve had in a long time”. 

When Stiles’ response wasn’t immediately forthcoming he looked down and said ‘sorry, sorry, it’s wrong of me to put that on you, I just thought … anyway, I’ll leave you to it” before stepping back and beginning to pull the bedroom door closed. 

Just as he had given up all hope that he would get a response, he heard Stiles say “wait”.

With renewed hope he reopened the door and looked at Stiles again. “Do you really mean that?" said the teenager quietly.

Peter just nodded.

“OK then” said Stiles, lifting up the covers.


	17. Reconciliation

Going into the diner where Scott and he used to catch up over curly fries and milk shakes wasn’t quite what he expected. He thought he’d feel nostalgia and comfort, but really, he just felt out of place. This place was part of another, more innocent life.

Deciding to play his old part though, he gave the familiar waitress a wide smile as he settled into a corner booth in the back. He’d resolved to get to the diner a little earlier than agreed so that he could scope out the place and mentally prepare himself for the conversation with Scott.

After Scott had finally responded to his initial text, he’d talked to Peter about the best way to approach the discussion, or reconciliation, as Peter called it. He’d explained all about Scott’s less than reliable habits and his fear that Scott would fail to show. Peter had suggested inviting Alison along, reasoning that if she and Stiles were in the same place, Scott would have no reason to be anywhere else. It was an entirely sensible suggestion and one that Stiles had begrudgingly actioned, although the necessity pained him enormously.

He couldn’t argue with success though, mentally congratulating Peter’s foresight when he saw Scott step through the door one minute before the appointed time, Alison in tow. He beamed as he waved them across to his booth.

“Stiles” said Scott reaching out for a bro hug, “what have you been up to man, it’s been weeks”. 

“Months is the word you’re looking for” said Stiles acerbically, not able to resist the dig.

“Huh” said Scott, not looking phased in the slightest. Alison, Stiles noted, at least had the decency to look embarrassed at Scott’s obliviousness. 

“How are you Stiles? You haven’t been at school in a while, is everything OK?” she said hesitantly.

Stiles had been thinking a lot about what to say about his current circumstances. Despite the temptation to put everything out there and lambast Scott for his complete failure to support Stiles in his time of need, he’d resolved to let things lie, for now at least. Calling Scott out would lead to questions he didn’t want to answer and information on his current living arrangements that he didn’t want to provide. It wouldn’t do anything to repair their friendship either, which was the whole point of all this.

“Everything’s fine. I just got into it a bit with my dad and wanted some space” said Stiles. “You know how he can get” he added, giving Scott a hard look. 

“The Sheriff can be a bit intense” said Scott turning to look at Alison. “That doesn’t explain why you aren’t at school though. How did you even get out of school?” he went on, looking back at Stiles.

“Sadly it didn’t require any Ferris Bueller antics - although I’ve always wanted to give the clammy palm trick a try” said Stiles with a wry chuckle. “It was pretty straight forward actually. I’ve already completed a lot of the requirements for senior year and my grades are good enough that they were happy to let me finish out the year by handing in some assignments. Since I’m 18 already, no parental permission necessary.”

“Wow, my mom would never let me get away with that” said Scott in awe.

“Well your mom is pretty great and she’s smart enough to know that you need year-round supervision” said Stiles with a grin. Before Scott or Alison could ask any follow up questions he quickly added, “that’s enough about me, I want to hear all about you two and the Beacon Hills seniors. How was prom?”

That was enough to set Scott and Alison off on an excruciatingly detailed explanation of their perfect prom evening, limo and corsage included. The discussion of prom then led to a series of anecdotes about other senior year happenings and Stiles was soon laughing about the antics of some of their erstwhile classmates. 

Stiles also made sure to ask Alison some questions about herself and her family. Peter had said that if he wanted to reconnect with Scott, he needed to show some interest in his girlfriend as well. It was good advice and it was with some chagrin that Stiles realised that he had never bothered to really talk to Alison before, always just seeing her as an obstacle to his friendship with Scott. He learned that she was an only child and that her parents moved around a lot for her dad’s work. She told him about how hard it was to always be the new kid at school and the more they talked the more he realised that she was actually really nice. Well ‘nice but deadly’ he thought, after she told them about her prowess with a bow. 

Eventually he looked at his watch and realised that almost two hours had passed. “I’ve got to get going” he said pulling out his shiny new credit card and placing it on the bill, “but it was great to catch up … with both of you.”

“Since when do you have a credit card?” said Scott.

Stiles could have kicked himself for the slip. He’d navigated the whole conversation without saying anything about how he was supporting himself and now there was no way Scott was going to let this go. The truth was that Peter had given him the credit card. Initially it was to resolve their impasse over the groceries. Peter had refused to allow Stiles to replace the groceries that he used but Stiles couldn’t bring himself to ask Peter to buy things at the store. Peter’s response was to give him a credit card for the purchase of household items, in the guise of asking for Stiles’ help to keep his pantry stocked.

Later, as he was heading out of the apartment to meet with Scott, Peter had said that he wanted to be the one to pay for the lunch, given that he had been the one to suggest it. He’d looked so worried that it might all go wrong that Stiles couldn’t bring himself to say no to using the credit card for the occasion, a decision he now regretted.

“Um, well I needed to get some credit history happening so I could move out” he said quickly. “I’ve actually had it for a while, but I don’t use it all that much – only for special occasions” he said with his best winning smile.

“You’re not living at home anymore?” said Scott as if the thought had only just occurred to him. Stiles had to fight to stop the mother of all eye rolls as he said “nope, not for a while now”.

Before Scott could ask a follow up question, the waitress returned with the credit card slip which he hurriedly signed as stood up, saying with a smile “I really have to go, but let’s catch up again when you have some time and I promise to tell you all about my tiny apartment then”. He could see that Scott and Alison were curious, but after a discrete elbow from Alison, Scott allowed him his escape.

…

  
Finally, finally, Peter heard Stiles’ key in the lock. He’d just about had it with that job at the diner. At first it had provided a convenient way to interact with the boy, but now it was just getting in the way. He finally had Stiles under his roof, but it felt like he was hardly there, at least not as much as Peter would have liked. Today was the last straw though. He’d been forced to wait all day to hear how Stiles’ catch up with Scott had gone and more importantly what the boy had learned about the Argent girl.

It wasn’t as if Stiles needed the money. He had a place to live and a credit card to pay for whatever he needed or wanted. Not that Stiles would see it that way. The teenager was wonderfully, if somewhat inconveniently, stubborn when it came to matters of his independence. Luckily Peter was even more stubborn and wasn’t handicapped by scruples – he’d find a way to get Stiles to accept his largesse, every bit of it. 

As Stiles stepped into the living room where Peter was reclining on velvet sofa, the werewolf made a show of looking up from his ipad as if interrupted from deep thought. 

“How was it?”

“Surprisingly OK…good really. It was nice to reconnect with Scott. Thanks for suggesting it.”

“You mean pushing you into doing it - kicking and screaming?” said Peter sardonically, although strangely relieved that the reunion hadn’t resulted in any further anguish for Stiles.

“You have a habit of doing that” said Stiles, “but I’ll admit that you were right on this one”.

“Just this one?” said Peter smugly.

“Don’t push your luck” responded Stiles attempting a stern look but failing miserably.

Deciding that now might be a good time to change topics, Peter asked Stiles what he had spoken about with Scott and the Argent girl. Stiles needed little prompting and soon Peter was hearing more about the Beacon Hills High senior class than he ever wished to know. He was pleased to hear that Stiles had followed his advice regarding Alison Argent and even managed to elicit a few facts that could be useful in his investigations. Most gratifying though was that his machinations with Stiles appeared to have seeded the beginnings of real friendship, a friendship that would be extremely useful in his end game with the Argents.

Once Stiles had finished up his explanations, Peter took himself off to get ready for bed, hoping that Stiles would do the same. Since that night a week ago, it had become the practice for the two of them to get ready for bed separately, but then sleep together in Stiles’ bed. While a real test of Peter’s self-control, his wolf was overjoyed to be able to curl up with the boy every night. The only sour note was that despite Peter taking some liberties with Stiles under the cover of sleep, he had yet to see or smell any signs of arousal on the boy. Perhaps that was unsurprising given the stress that Stiles had been under thought Peter, choosing not to dwell too closely on his own role in that. It would have to be resolved though, one way or another. Peter had convinced the boy to trust him. Now, he needed Stiles to desire him. Perhaps it was time for the teenager to chase Peter for a change.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first post on Ao3 - be kind! 
> 
> I don't own or purport to own Teen Wolf or any of the characters. 
> 
> Enjoy.


End file.
